Brave Little Lion
by KittySalt
Summary: Medella Malfoy and her twin brother Draco are notorious, and beautiful. But while Draco has the blond looks of a Malfoy his sister is the spitting image of their deranged murderous aunt, Bellatrix LeStrange. Della's beauty is haunting, and Neville Longbottom is haunted.
1. Chapter 1

Okay so new story because I had the idea and the time over my winter break. I have no idea where this is going but I really like it and the idea of Neville being more a part of things than he is originally. So this is the fic, read and review like always and I'll try to update in bursts at a time instead of one chapter at a time.

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The bloodcurdling cries were all that could be heard through the manor. Well, the only thing apart from the overly calm murmurings of the male St. Mungo's operative above hovering above the rightly disheveled Lady Malfoy. He was the best healer money could buy, and of course extensive background check had proven him pure; pureblooded that is. Lucius had made quite certain of that, he only wanted the best to handle his beautiful wife, and his soon to be beautiful babies. Lucis was standing to the side of the room, with straight blond hair, the trademark Malfoy shade of platinum, that was offset only by his sneer. His hands were pulled taut behind his back and as he stood with a face like marble, pale and hard, watching his wife give another almighty shriek before she collapsed back against the bedframe, spent and suffering.

The healer from 's who had gotten there two nights previous via floo network held up a blond headed baby boy, his red wrinkled face was screwed up as he gave a shriek that could rival Narcissa's. He was demanding to be heard in this world already, as his tiny fists shook and the maid swaddled him in a vivid emerald silk.

"Narcissa. You aren't done yet," Lucius reminded with a drawl from his place against the dark bedroom wallpaper. With a frustrated huff Narcissa resumed the seemingly endless and excruciating task of childbirth again. Noting that of course the smug bastard would give her twins. The medic had already been told twice that his mouth would be sewn shut if he opened it again, so with a silent determination he aided the striking lady in her task.

Cradling the head of the child and easing it into the world the healer held his breath.

"It's a girl?" The Medic seemed at a loss after those few words, he wasn't expecting the gender swap he had seen before him, but it wasn't the gender that had him speechless.

"Give her to me," Lucius demanded pushing himself from the wall then and taking the baby girl swiftly in his arms. Forgetting about the mess she would make he cradled her to his chest, staring in disbelief at the black haired child that cooed in his arms. She nuzzled into his black and green robes seemingly in search of something. Perhaps her twin brother, Lucius wondered to himself. He didn't care, he was entranced by this little wonder, so much like her mother's family; less of a Malfoy, and more of a Black.

The maid came back into the dark room and begun fussing about the little thing in Mr. Malfoy's arms, she plucked the child from her masters hands with little ease, but once the baby girl was free she wrapped an emerald silk around her, just as she had with her brother, and whisked her away.

Narcissa had passed out on the mattress, her blonde hair circled her sharp face in a soft glow, and her high cheekbones shone with a sheen of sweat. Lucius noted that she would have to be cleaned up, and with a look at his own appearance he knew that he better clean up as well.

"See to her," He demanded of the Healer before turning to exit the room in search of a change of clothes, and perhaps a drink. "And then leave."

Narcissa woke in a bathtub nearly four hours later, her bones ached but the hot water was somewhat soothing, she drank the potion that had been placed beside the grand clawfoot tub where she soaked. It took moments to take affect, but she waited patiently before it kicked in and she could stand from the tub without help.

Wrapping herself with a black silk robe and leaving the tub for her house elf to drain, she left the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom where she found her husband fresh and waiting for her.

"How are they Lucius?" She asked with a calm, commanding tone, which for all her efforts could still not hide her incessant curiosity. "Are they beautiful,"

"Exceedingly my dear," Lucius crossed the room to place a kiss to his wife's blonde curls. In her haste to leave the bathroom she hadn't taken care to dry them or place them just so, but it was no matter; she was still so strikingly beautiful.

"Draco and Medella," Lucius took his wife's parted lips up with is own. "They will be the best of the Malfoys and of the Blacks."


	2. Chapter 2

Another chapter, this is the first time they take the Hogwarts Express, so obviously in their first year. Next chapter will jump ahead to third year and be much longer this is still sort of a prelude. Enjoy and please read and review!

xxx

It was a calculated day in the Malfoy Manor, as all days seemed to be when it came to the distinguished family. Draco and his twin sister Medella had been up and dressed impeccably from head to toe, as if cookie cutter copies of their perfect parents.

The boy, Draco Malfoy, was a carbon copy of his father in a black suit. One that stood on his shoulders in a perfect fit and made his white blond hair and emerald eyes shine in contrast. You could see how he echoed his mother in the sharp cheekbones that lay just beneath his porcelain skin. He was striking, handsome, and undoubtedly a Malfoy. The sneer and pureblood greatness clung to him in everything he did. Even as he ate his prepared breakfast he couldn't shake the regal disdain he carried.

His sister just across from him had a similar look about her. The royal smirk and haughtiness of a Malfoy was offset with the mad, dark, curls of a Black. She was the exact image of her Aunt, Bellatrix, who was just as mad and, in her age, just as beautiful. Dressed in a dark green dress, which hung off her young frame in the best way, she commanded the room almost more than her contrasting twin. Her dark brown eyes looked to her breakfast with needless derision, they were the colour of plain coffee, or decadent chocolate, but they were made even darker under heavy lids and thick lashes. The cheekbones, that looked eerily like her mothers, and her mothers sister, were still unseen behind pudgy youth and pale skin. She was haunting, and sinisterly beautiful, it was a dangerous combination, and all who looked upon her could agree, she wouldn't break hearts like her brother, but she would crush them just for fun.

Neither of the twins were bothered with their beauty in that moment however, it was more prominent for them to finish their meals and apparate with their parents to Kings Cross station, or more correctly, Platform 93/4 which would take them to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because like their parents before them they were magic, and they were of age. Eleven and ready to be taught the wonders of spells and potions and charms, like their parents had years ago.

It would be their first year, Narcissa and Lucius knew only too well that their children would be leaving in only hours, and that they would miss the little twins terribly from now till winter break. But as Narcissa tucked a green scarf snuggly around her protesting son she couldn't help but get the tinge of excitement that caught her when she first boarded the oxblood train that took her to her home away from home.

She remembered how her and her sister Bella had boarded the train and sat in the first free compartment, only to have it fill with boys as the train clicked on. Bella had been a heartbreaker, and the boys had been hooked to her like worms on a fishing line. It was only until Lucius had stepped into the compartment when Narcissa truly felt the giddy relief she had craved since her parents opened her Hogwarts letter.

Looking to her son she felt that same giddy relief fill her bones, she was a mess of nerves behind her calm exterior. Looking to her daughter she felt a sense of pride, and also dread. She knew the dark girl would be a force to be reckoned with, just as her sister had been. She just hoped that she would be as strong as her sister, but perhaps with a bit more sense. Lucius had just finished slipping her into her coat, and with a wave of her hand she did the buttons up for herself. A small hand seemed to squeeze at Narcissa's heart then, because that little girl, dark as she seemed, was the apple of Lucius' eye and the heart of the family.

"Daddy can we go now," She asked in a honey sweet plea, which brought Lucius down to pick her up in his arms like the day she was born. "I want to go to witch school now!"

"It's wizard school too," Her twin brother piped up, his voice seemed to win out against the September air and hug his mother's ears. She held the gloved hand of the fair little boy and her next words were the ones the twins had been waiting for all morning.

"Shall we go sweet ones?" Narcissa rang out into the air before a crack took her son and her to the Hogwarts Express platform. Lucius looked down as his daughter let a giggle loose from Medella's generous mouth at the wondrous display of magic and with a crack they too were gone.

The two parents watched as their children walked off hand in hand, one night and one day, they seemed so different and yet so similar. Draco had a swagger that could only be classified as haughty, and his sister swayed her hips even at eleven she knew how to turn heads. They boarded the train and came to a free compartment. If the compartment could talk it would tell them the stories that this compartment held. Bellatrix carving her initials into the bottom of the seat in pure destructive boredom. Lucius holding Narcissa close as the other Slytherin housemates looked to them in admiration. It was all there, and now so were they.

"Draco, help me with my trunk." Medella asked her brother in a needy whine that would be sure to stir him from his seat. Her assumptions were proven true as her brother groaned and hauled her trunk up alongside his only to lay back down, not caring that he was wrinkling his expensive suit. Medella only giggled at her brother's annoyance.

"Thank you brother mine," She blew an air kiss at him before flouncing into her own seat and stretching out lavishly.

The two had the cart to themselves for only moments before the door opened and shut again, revealing a young skinny boy. His black skin and amber eyes took in the sight before him. It was undeniable that they were purebloods, like him, and they could only be Malfoys. The blond boy was looking up to him in cruel disinterest, which only spoke of his lineage even more. The girl had her hands folded over her stomach and her head dropped to the side in a lazy show of boredom. She had something in her eyes that dared the boy in front of her to speak, and forbid him to look away. Her thick black lashes and heavy lids dropped over her eyes slowly and her wide mouth and full lips parted into a dangerous smirk.

"I'm Blaise," The boy said causing the twins to snap to attention at the amber-eyed boy who showed the promise of another Slytherin like them. He had a strong jaw, even at his young age, and a pureblood status that was seemingly pinned onto his shirt with confidence. The twins knew that her would be joining them at the table later that night, and in their compartment for the rest of the journey. Things slowed down then, Medella even managed to nap as her brother and the new boy, Blaise spoke about the Hogwarts houses and other trivial things.

The train carried on and Medella woke after a while, the boys had gone to change into their school robes and she knew that she should do the same, but the door opened before she got the chance to get the uniform out of her trunk. Medella stood slowly, her black curls were messy from sleep, and generally always messy, they hung around her face and her dark features were drawn up with arrogance at the sight before her.

A lumpy boy had pulled open the door to her compartment and stood breathless in shock, or fear, or both. His robes were around him and fit poorly, his teeth hung out of his mouth, which was parted seemingly unbeknownst to him. His dark hair was combed lamely to the side and his ears stuck out a bit. Medella was disgusted.

"What?" She snarled cruelly the boy nearly pissed himself. It seemed as though he couldn't find the voice to reply, and he was dreading his decision to open this compartment. Why did he have to be so unlucky all the time? it wasn't until the girl in front of him spoke again that he found himself able to form a coherent sentence, "Is there a reason to you?"

"I'm looking for my toad, have you seen him?" The girl's mouth seemed to sink even deeper into the foul sneer that she hadn't dropped since he walked in. Her eyes were almost black and they swept over him slowly making the boy wish he'd never been born.

"Have you tried the mirror." The girl spat and the boy nearly ran from her then, but his feet refused to move. He was stuck under the dangerous gaze of this terrible girl.

"My name is Neville if you find him." The boy tried again, unreasonably brave, Medella thought harshly. The girl ignored him and shut the door before he could continue. He turned away, dejected, before sighing and trying the next door.

"Who was that?" Blaise asked as he entered into the compartment, Medella had her uniform in hand and was making for the door. Her brother asked the same question with a perk of his platinum eyebrows. His wordless communication was familiar to his twin sister as it had been for years of childhood together back home at the Manor.

"Just a Toad," she replied brushing past Draco and Blaise to put on her uniform. The one that would be proudly Slytherin before nightfall; she was after all a Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

Alright so third chapter is up and I am exhausted! Let me know what you think, and have a good one! ALSO! I have edited this chapter so it will seem familiar, but the ages have been altered to fit my timeline and to make things move a bit faster. Review to let me know how I'm doing, seriously guys reviews save lives! Alright, whatever, here we go.

xxx

Lucius and Narcissa watched as the train took their children from them for a fifth time; they were fifteen and seemingly all grown up. They hadn't even looked back as they boarded with their friends and stepped into the compartment that they had filled on their first journey and then again on their second, third and fourth. Draco had grown taller, so that now he stood just under the chin of his father. His eyes had grown sharper and his hair was no longer slicked like his mother had insisted. He was in fact quite handsome, with high cheekbones and a cold exterior. Narcissa noticed the way girls would stare after her son when he walked by, and the way that little Pansy clung to him every chance she got. It was pathetic, but her son was definitely worth the attention.

Her daughter was another matter. Where her brother was tall, she was short. Her frame stood at least a head shorter than Draco. Her figure was full; it made heads turn and hands ache with a need to hold her, to feel her. Unfortunately, Medella knew exactly what she did to them; she walked with her hips swaying and her head held high. She was already too powerful, too confident, just like Bella had been. Her laugh and her voice sounded eerily similar to the aunt that was rotting away in prison, a deep rich tone and dangerous inflection had the perfect combination for the manipulative nature of the girl. She was a force to be reckoned with, and she knew it.

So as Narcissa watched them walk onto the train, standing in her husband's arms she could only shake her head and laugh. Lucius looked down at her, flipping his long blond hair out of the way so he could look fully to his stunning wife.

"What's so funny?" He asked in a drawl that was similar to his son's.

"Merlin help the boys this year," Narcissa replied more to herself than anyone else. She could feel her husbands grip tighten around her, hating the thought of the little princess all grown up. At that the parents looked up to see their children hanging out the train window. Waving and Medella's kisses were blown across the platform to touch them for the last time till winter break. Lucius watched as Draco held onto his sister as she hung dangerously out the window. Her form was fading away into the distance, down the tracks, but somehow her striking features were still visible.

"Merlin help them," Lucius agreed and with a flick of his wrist the were gone.

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The feast was always a splendid affair, and from the heart of the Slytherin table it was surely the best welcome the twins could receive. Blaise was on the left of Medella and her darling brother Draco was on the right. Clinging to him was the nasty little squilch Pansy Parkinson, but Medella found she was easy enough to tune out.

"Della?" Her brother asked her from beside her with a sharp pull on her arm, which was holding her pretty head up from the table lazily. She turned to her brother sharply, looking into his green eyes and wondering how he could be so stupid. The Malfoy's temper had always been so fragile.

"What Draco?" she snapped at him, not caring about his reasons, but certainly affronted by his rude interruptions. She had been thinking of nothing really, unlike the rest of the student body that was seemingly obsessed with The-Boy-Who-Lived, or better yet The-Boy-Who-Rules-Don't-Affect. The table, the great hall, had been humming with the news of his trial for under aged wizardry and in turn it's consequences, that of course wonder-boy brushed off without a care.

"Did you hear Potter was almost expelled?" Draco questioned, not wanting the answer but wanting to share that the golden boy had fallen. Medella's dark eyes rolled slowly behind her heavy lashes. "It's a shame they let him come back if you ask me,"

"I didn't ask you though did I? Believe it or not I don't care about the Gryffindor git, not like you do, brother mine." She stated before turning back to her food. She couldn't help flitting her eyes across the gryffindor table, searching for the boy in question. The famous Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the youngest seeker in Hogwarts history. She didn't care what he was called, to her he seemed like every other plucky adolescent male. With messy black hair and wire framed spectacles he was truly underwhelming, and his choice in mates was even less attractive.

Medella scanned over the granger girl and her bushy brown main, too much like the mighty gryffindor lion. Then she cast her eyes and sneer to the Weasley boy, his ginger hair and freckles were attached to a pale face and lanky body. Again underwhelming. She was about to cast her gaze away from the sad sight of the Gryffindor table when something caught her eye. It was that boy.

Neville had been watching the Slytherin table not out of interest, but out of habit. He liked to see what they were like when they weren't trying to be intimidating. When they were just being real people like the rest of the world. He scanned over the table like he did so often, but when he got to the centre of the table he couldn't seem to move his gaze any further. It was the Malfoy twins, or more specifically Medella Malfoy that had his eyes stuck in their place, like a mouse frozen under the cat's watchful eye. She wasn't even looking at him, but that didn't matter he was still entranced.

Her beauty was haunting, and he wasn't the only one to notice it, of course he wasn't, anyone who'd laid eyes on her could tell you she was the best thing they'd ever seen. He was sure that even Harry Potter, who hated the Malfoys with so much fervor, had thought about her when he shouldn't have. Not saying that Neville had thought about her like that, the boy amended in his head while his cheeks flared red and the heat flushed his face. He wouldn't dare think like that about her, she would pull out his teeth one by one, slowly. He dared one more look at her, and nearly wet himself when he found her looking back. Her dark eyes seemed to tell him that he'd made a grave mistake, but the amusement he found there made him see past the terror he held and stare some more. She smirked at him, her generous mouth stretching wide over her perfect teeth. He could see the quirk of her mouth and how it pulled at the dark corners of her somewhat sunken eyes. She was the kind of person who could make you hurt and then make you believe it was pure joy you were feeling. Medella Malfoy was dangerous, but Neville Longbottom was hooked.

"What are you looking at?" Blaise asked, picking a potato wedge off of Medella's plate before popping it in his mouth and smirking at the girl beside him.

"Nothing special," She purred to the boy beside her and took a sip of her goblet. She had successfully mastered the water to wine charm and when the bittersweet taste hit the lips of the young witch she knew it had been worth it. Draco beside her scoffed before taking another sip of his wine, having mastered the spell weeks before his sister.

Medella continued with her dinner, all the while keeping a discreet eye on the lanky brunette boy. He was much taller and slimmer than last she remembered him, but to be entirely honest he hadn't been worth remembering. As Medella watched him now she could tell that all that would change, the boy had potential shining under that crimson blush, perhaps it was buried far under the surface, but it was there. With a last glance his way she could tell that women didn't think much of him, and he certainly didn't think much of women, but there in that noisy great hall, among her fellow Slytherin, she decided to change that.

xxx

It was early in the morning, but somehow still late, when Medella finally got up and dressed for the day. It was cold and damp in the Slytherin common rooms, which were located in the basement of the school, so Della dressed quickly. All the while taking care to roll her stockings up just right, to fix her skirt so it was just higher than the other girls, and do up just enough buttons on her blouse before slipping into her brother's fourth year cardigan and going to fix her hair. She spent next to no time throwing it into a haphazard bun that she had mimicked from pictures of her Aunty Bella that she had found that summer in the Manors attic. Her messy black curls fell around her face framing it romantically, leaving her strong jaw and elegant collarbone open to the world. It was a calculated hairstyle that looked anything but. Perfect for Medella Malfoy, who was practiced and poised almost all the time.

When she walked into the common room she found her brother waiting for her on the couch, at his side were Crabbe and Goyle, probably the two ugliest boys that the twins had ever laid eyes on, and the stupidest. Blaise was probably still in bed, he didn't go to class much but when he did he found that he was right to skip it. Pansy was also there, she was behind Draco, rubbing his shoulders with the skill and care of a wombat. Medella wanted to scoff at the look of uncomfort that graced her brothers fair face. She also wanted to put Pansy in her place, to show the girl what little power she had here.

"Pansy," Della called out as she entered the room, the dark walls making her darkness that much more haunting. "I don't think Draco wants your dirty hands on him, and I know _I _don't want your dirty hands on him. It's nothing personal it's just that the Malfoys have a reputation to uphold and you just won't do." The pug faced girl's features screwed up in rage and her hands left the blond boys shoulders. The wrinkles left in his otherwise impeccable uniform were out of place and needed to be straightened out. Medella didn't need to tell her brother however, he knew just as well as she that the Malfoys were to be taken seriously, even here. Draco brushed the remainder of the girl's rough hands off his shoulders and straightened his silver and green necktie before offering his arm to his sister.

As Medella took her brothers arm, Pansy Parkinson left the common room in a red-faced huff. Della smirked in satisfaction while Draco could only roll his eyes at her, pettiness wasn't the most noble of Malfoy traits, but it was a strong one.

"Did you have to make her so upset?" Draco questioned following his sister up the stairs. His twin simply turned to him then, needing no words to communicate her answer; of course she did. With the matter settled the twins climbed the stairs out of the dungeons and then went their separate ways like night passing by day.

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Classes with Slytherins were Neville's least favourite classes, and he couldn't believe his rotten luck that his time table was full of them. Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and even Herbology were all filled with the snakes. He looked at his breakfast with dismay as Seamus and Dean discussed Quidditch beside him, how could he have such terrible luck?

It was only after a while when he decided to glance around. Looking up from his sausages and toast he scanned the rest of the Gryffindor table, eyes landing on the luckiest guy he knew. Why couldn't he be like Harry? Fearless Harry, effortless Harry, the boy was loved by everyone in school, and all the teachers seemed to favour him as well, especially the DADA teachers, which was the coolest subject and coincidentally Neville's worst. What Neville wouldn't give to have just a shred of the life Harry must have.

He didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts however, the bell tolled to signal breakfast was over and swarms of witches and wizards filed out of the great hall to make it to their next class without a detention. Neville dropped his toast and made for the door, it was time for Potions.

Snape was the scariest teacher of all. His deadpanned disdain and his bitter cruelty left the students apprehensive in the dungeon classroom. Draco and Della however did not find the head of Slytherin house so frightening, and in turn he found the twins to be less of a nuisance than the other students, well actually that wasn't true they were both too arrogant for his liking. So as the twins took their seats at the back of class and the rest of the students filled the seats around them Snape found himself looking them over once more.

He always had to take a second glance at Medella Malfoy, thinking that the ghost of Bella was traipsing through the halls or sitting smugly right in front of him,. It was unnerving the likeness, and even worse when paired with her unmistakable mannerisms, the heavy lidded lazy smirk and the dark sneer that made even the Hogwarts staff shake out of their skin. Her brother, hardly twins if time wasn't vouched for, was the slytherin prince, blond and regal he had a sense of entitlement that stretched far too wide for Snape's liking, just like his father.

The old professor had to blink the thoughts from his mind when he realised that the classroom was full and the bratty little students were ready to learn, as if they could. He stood to give his standard introduction lesson when the door creaked open yet again.

Neville Longbottom cursed his rotten luck for the second time that day. Crabbe and Goyle had bumped into him in the halls on his way to the dungeons, literally and harshly they had knocked him to the ground and sent his books flying. Of course no one had bothered to help and of course he walked into class late and flustered while Snape chewed him out in front of all the other students, in front of her.

Medella watched in annoyance and then amusement at the tall brown haired boy. She watched as his cheeks flushed a deep Gryffindor crimson and his mouth opened and shut like a fish searching for water. She muffled a snicker into her sleeve as Snape stood in front of him and degraded him loudly. The boy stood his ground, if only slightly, until Snape made to hit him over the head. Shying away from the professor's raised hand Della could only smirk at the boy. So much for a brave Gryffindor she bemused silently. Draco beside her snorted ungracefully and she rolled her eyes at her brothers amusement.

"Go sit down. You insolent little waste." Snape snarled as the little lion shrunk away with his tail between his legs. The _mighty_ lion, Della scoffed. The class searched around alongside the unlucky boy, looking for an empty seat in the cold, damp, potions classroom. It was only then that Medella stopped laughing, and her brother beside her did as well, because the empty seat that this little lion was looking for was across from the intimidating twins. Della cursed under her breath at the same time Draco did, perhaps it was their bond as twins that caused them to choose the same word.

A word that Neville echoed as he sat his books down on the desk and then parked himself slowly in front of the one girl he hadn't seemed to shake the thought of. The one girl who single handedly struck fear and something else into his heart.

"Miss Malfoy," Snape called across the classroom causing the girl in question to turn from her prey and arch a thick black eyebrow at him expectantly, "What is the difference between a draught and a potion?"

"I don't know professor," She drawled out.

"Excuse me," Snape deadpanned back at the arrogant Slytherin Princess.

"I don't care," she smirked darkly, "But I'm sure Granger has the answer and that she'd do just about anything to tell you," The seductive tone that took hold of her voice then left the room speechless, and Neville in shock.

Della took a long look at the room around her, which seemed to have taken a collective gasp. She saw a beet red Hermione who was shooting daggers at Della, she saw Snape who looked taken aback by the brazen teen, and then to her brother who was bored by her usual antics. Though it was the boy in front of her who truly caught her attention, his brown hair hung just above his eyebrows and curled up at the ends, his cheeks were painted red yet again, and his mouth was parted, showing white teeth behind two full lips. His lanky form was too big and too awkward for his new uniform, which was worn in the standard way leading the Malfoy to confirm that this boy had never sought out attention from the opposite sex, she wondered if he even knew how.

He stared at her with such open amazement that Della had to arch her brow at him. She smirked at his reaction, which was an uncollected gasp, and then turned back to the teacher. Snape was outraged, but keeping a calm front was something he had mastered in his youth.

"I have no desire to hear from Miss Granger, although I'm sure she knows. I would like you to answer, what is the difference between a Draft and a Potion." It was no longer a question but a demand. Medella had no idea of the answer nor did she care that this would be her last chance to make things right.

"Draughts are usually medicinal, whereas potions are usually made for a miscellaneous magical purposes." She rattled off boredly earning a warning glance from her professor in the process.

"Correct Miss Malfoy," Snape moved on to terrorize the next deserving victim and Medella sat back in a huff. She would never tell anyone that she had read the answer right off the little lion's lips.

xxx

Okay so this last chapter has been edited so that the main characters are in fifth year. This helps the plot so much for me and makes their odd sexual stuff to be a tad more believable. I will hopefully have the next chapter up within the next three days and I hope that you've enjoyed this story so far. Please review, as it is extremely helpful, (I've already put a couple suggestions to use!)


	4. Chapter 4

Hey so next chapter up and ready! Hope you are enjoying yourselves here, I am for sure. If you are confused as to the story's sudden lapse in time it is because I changed it, go reread the last chapter as I have edited it and it will explain the timeline issues you may be having. I wanted the characters a little older to speed up plot and to make their interactions less awkward. All good? We cool? Okay, lets get on with it.

xxx

Neville was in shock, staring at the dark freckle just above Medella Malfoy's exposed collarbone. He couldn't believe his luck, his stupid, rotten, useless, broken luck that had taken him out of bed this morning and somehow led him here; to the heart of the Slytherin table. He was sitting beside Blaise Zabini, who sat across from Draco Malfoy, who sat next to Medella, the girl who had taken root in his mind like a transplanted Mandrake. His vision went in and out of focus as their double potions block spanned on, and it wasn't until a hand caught his sight that he fully came to.

"I think he's finally lost it," Della pointed out in a bored tone, not caring to keep her voice down despite the silence in the classroom. "I mean his parents are loopy but I didn't think it was hereditary." She drawled out, rubbing the place where the boy had been staring as if to shake him off. Neville's eyes snapped into focus then, narrowing at the cold witch despite how much she scared him.

"Oh looky Draco the lion's come out to play," She laughed then, and her brother smirked down at the boy. Emerald eyes flashing with amusement at the fuming Gryffindor. He knew not to get involved, Medella never liked to share, and she was certainly capable of tearing this boy apart without his help; she was cruel when she was bored.

"How do you know about them?" Neville demanded in a wavering tone, keeping his voice down as if his lineage was some grave secret, perhaps it was, Della didn't care. His cheeks were flushed a shade darker than angry, and his jaw was set in a hard determination. This was a change she was not expecting to see, and she was enjoying it very much. Maybe, she thought, he was a lion after all.

"Do you know who I am?" Medella questioned with a brow arched in dark amusement. "Because my aunty Bella told me all about you." She waited as her words sunk in and she watched his face change from confusion to disbelief to horror and then finally settled on anger. Draco watched as his sister's lips spread into a wide smile and her eyes watched the boy in predatory acuteness. She had no idea how terrifying she looked, like a lioness, but much darker. It dawned on him then that Longbottom must never have seen a picture of Bellatrix, the woman who disabled his parents, or he would have already made the undeniable connection; it was no secret that Medella was just like her.

"It can't be," Neville shook his head as if that would somehow alleviate the pressure that was building there, like it would shake away the confusion.

"Well it is," The Malfoy dropped from amused to irritated in a flick of a wand. "I suggest you come to terms with it. I have." Neville's emotions changed in less time than Medella's.

The girl had crossed a line, she knew that, but the look on his face had been spectacular. The look on his face now was just pathetic. His brow was pulled low over his brown eyes, the hurt and anger that lived there could be seen from the astronomy tower. He looked from Medella to her twin brother in absolute disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom this new low that they had sunk to. Medella just smirked as Draco sneered, the Gryffindor boy was out of his league, but still he pressed on.

"Say a word about my parents and I'll-" He started, but faltered to think up a threat that these twins would find threatening, he found none. He doubted that the two Malfoys seated in front of him were scared of anything. Medella saw him falter and snapped at his heels.

"You'll what Longbottom? You have nothing on me, on us, and you know it." She spoke true, but she also spoke harshly and it made Neville's forehead crinkle and his mouth draw into a pathetic pout; he was worried about the information getting out.

Despite how cruel Medella claimed to be, she could not deny that this pathetic lion had hit a nerve, however small that nerve may be. Perhaps it was because even still he was eyeing the girl up like he still had a chance at winning the fight. Or maybe it was that for all his insecurities he was staring at the girl head on, not caring what she might say or do next.

She didn't know what it was, but she couldn't break it, not just yet.

"Alright fine, Longbottom don't be so pathetic, I'm not going to tell anyone about your parents, it's not my secret to share, and I don't really care about your sick mum and dad." His head snapped up then, his brown eyes meeting hers and clinging to them as if her near-black irises were the only life preserver on a sinking

ship.

"Make him promise." Neville said resolute, nodding his head in the direction of Draco. The boy in question merely nodded his cooperation and continued stare at the board as his quill copied down the notes by magic.

"Draco won't be a problem," Medella sighed rolling her eyes at her brother's sneer. Draco was the least of this boys problems, she still had her plans in mind.

Her plans to drive this boy mental, just like his parents, had formulated in her mind throughout the day, but now, with him so openly opposed to her lineage, it was as if icing had been slathered onto a cake. She would make him want her, despite every little nerve in his awkward body, she would make him crave her, and then crush him into dust.

But not quite yet, as the bell sounded the end of the double potions block Medella hauled her bag onto her shoulder and waltzed out of the classroom, making sure to swing her hips. Her somewhat large mouth was drawn into a signature pout. Draco gathered up his things and with one last look at the Gryffindor wimp he was off, throwing a warning over his shoulder. The boy at least deserved that much.

"Watch yourself Longbottom," He sneered down at the boy before dropping the malice in his emerald eyes. It was a brief moment of honesty from one boy to the next, but for some reason the effects left Neville in a state of greater unrest. "Watch yourself with her." With the last words the blond boy slipped out the door, leaving Neville with a lot to think about.

Neville thought about those words all through the day, and then among the crowd in the great hall. He thought about them in bed, before sleep, and then again in the morning as he brushed his teeth; he couldn't shake the Malfoy's advice, and the girl it pertained to. Even his friends noticed his distant mind, showing their concern all through breakfast and on the way to herbology.

"Are you sure you're alright Neville?" Hermione persisted, though she'd already asked three times before. Neville snapped his attention back to his bushy haired friend. He gave a weak smile and a slight nod. "Because I would walk you up to see Madam Pomfrey if you'd like," The clever witch made an effort to look her friend in the eyes, giving a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, really," Neville said, leaving the group walking down the hill to the greenhouses in a silent disbelief. "I'm just tired I suppose."

"Yeah I suppose it is hard to sleep with ron snoring like a Swedish Short Snout all night," Harry cut in, causing Ron to kick up a fuss. Neville breathed in relief at the attention deflected.

"Look at the lions roar Draco," Della cackled as she passed, brushing Neville sharply, leaving his shoulder aching at the contact. He rubbed the spot where her shoulder had collided with his, or I suppose his elbow, there was a great height difference between the two. She turned to walk backwards, biting a full red apple before tossing it to her brother. She eyed up the Gryffindor students, there was Granger, Weasley, and of course Potter, but her dark lidded eyes couldn't help but settle on Longbottom. Neville was sure that he must be crazy, or he must be a dead man, because Medella Malfoys eyes scanned him, making their way from his toes to his top and everything in between. He felt absolutely open, and almost raw, as if her eyes raking him up and down actually left a mark; he could swear they did. What caught him off guard though was the reaction she seemed to have to him, her eyes were calculating, almost as if she were an artist, going over a blank canvas. Neville shuddered, as if that would shake her gaze off.

"I thought I heard a snake in the grass," Hermione spat back, taking offense to the nasty girl's tone.

"Oh clever Granger," The girl taunted, "Did you think long on that one?" With a roll of her eyes she turned and walked in the direction of the greenhouses. Neville cursed under his breath, another class with the Slytherins. Potions was unavoidable, but did they have to ruin his favourite subject, his best subject. He had started the walk off happy, but as they neared the greenhouse doors he felt dread sink in.

The words, "Watch yourself with her," Played over and over in Neville's mind. He wondered why Draco Malfoy would give him the warning, but more prominently he wondered what it meant. He risked a glance at the girl in question, her brows were furrowed over her textbook, making her dark features even darker. Her hair was messy and tangled and piled high on her head, with curls hanging loose that tickled her pale neck. Neville found the image disturbing, or at least what it did to him was disturbing; he didn't want to like what he saw.

Medella felt a weight on her that could only be watchful eyes, and she scanned the room for the intruder. Her eyes landed on his heavily, they stuck like glue and she kicked her plan into action. With a slow gaze she travelled up his awkward frame to his face, she flicked her gaze to his lips, which were parted, and then back over his freckles to his eyes, he seemed to melt as her gaze swept over him with a calculated heat.

Neville spilt the soil he was meaning to place around the plant. His trowel hung loosely in his grasp and if it weren't for the other twenty students he would've forgotten where he was. He would've forgotten that they weren't the only ones in the room. He felt his cheeks flame and his heart pick up it's pace in his chest. He cursed it, the girl was dangerous, she was the very image of Bellatrix LeStrange, the one to blame for everything. He blamed her for taking his parents away from him, for making him live with his clueless Grandmum, for the lack of confidence he had, and lastly for being the one thing that made Medella Malfoy off limits.

It wasn't as though he had a chance with her, but he liked to hope that on some level they had an equal footing, and he had just as much chance as the next guy. No, Medella was off limits because she was the enemy. It was as if Neville had put her, even the idea of her, on a high shelf to be forgotten; but like he knew he shouldn't he would always return to the idea. He cursed himself for taking a look at her, and he cursed himself for wanting to take another.

xxx

Medella had been playing her game slowly. First she had planted the idea in September, making him look at her, making him look twice at her. She had made sure to walk in front of him up the stairs to divination, to keep his attention focused on her, and in turn to make him notice that he was gaining her attention, and now, as October drew to a close, she sat across the hall from him she made an effort to be loud. It wasn't as if she had to try hard, her voice carried far at the best of times, and she did love Halloween. She laughed loudly, and flicked her hair, which had escaped the usual bun and now hung around her head like an unruly black mane. She took a large bite of her dinner and casually flipped her eyes onto the Gryffindor table, and more importantly the lanky lion that sat there. She had a need to sink her teeth into something, and took it out on her potato covered fork. He had been watching her, but she didn't want to care.

xxx

That night, after the grand feast and the great desert, Neville had a dream, one he wished was a nightmare. He woke sweaty, still feeling the effects that the sleep induced images gave him. He shook his head, as if that would get her out of it. The dark Malfoy had waltzed her way into his dream, swaying her hips and taunting him with a sneer. But it wasn't the usual stuff that had him all worked up, it was the impossibility of what happened next that had him all hot and bothered. She had found him in the Greenhouses, where he would often go after classes to work in peace, and she had pushed him up against the wall, rattling both him and the glass. She had put her hands on his chest, his lean muscles had jumped at her touch, and she had gone further, but Neville blushed to think about it.

"Bloody hell Neville are you still awake?" Ron mumbled bleary eyed from his pillow. Neville nearly jumped out of his skin, at the boys startling presence, he'd almost forgotten where he was, who he was with. All the other boys were asleep in their four poster beds, Neville was awake and mad with the thoughts of what the dream girl had done next.

"_Are you just going to stand there Longbottom?" _She had asked him, challenging every muscle in his body that was begging him to move, to fight against his mind and give the Malicious Malfoy exactly what she wanted, and despite all his protest he did. He kissed her with a fierceness he didn't know he possessed, and all she could do was say his name.

"_Neville_," she breathed into his ear, causing his lips at her neck to work faster.

"Neville," She said again, a little louder, and as a low grumble traveled up his throat.

"Neville! Wake up, we'll be late," He was being shaken now, shaken out of his stupor, though the groan escaping his lips now was for an entirely different reason. Ron standing above him was a stark contrast to what he'd just been thinking of, and his red hair didn't nearly compare to Medella's black curls.

xxx

"What took you boys so long," Hermione questioned in a sharp whisper as the boys just nearly made it into their defense against the dark arts class. A class that was usually fine, despite it's temporary teachers, and darker subject matter, was now absolute bollocks. Their new teacher, Umbridge was a fowl toad, who dressed in gaudy pink and left a lot to be desired in an educational standpoint. Even the Slytherins hated her, though they took some compensation knowing that the Gryffindors favourite subject had been ruined. As Neville slid into his seat next to Harry and Ron, he could see that Umbridge wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Neville had a tough time getting up this morning," Harry whispered to Hermione, she nodded her head and gave Neville a sympathetic look.

"That's not how I remember it," Ron smirked, causing Neville to blush at what was implied. Hermione scowled at Ron, but her sympathetic look to Neville seemed almost worse.

"Alright class shall we begin," Umbridge called, appearing at the front of the class in a bubblegum pink set of robes, Neville winced and pulled out his books, leaving his wand out of sight. This was a wand free class, although in the four hundred years of teaching it hadn't been as regulated. The ministry had thought that it was better this way, that students would be safer, and frankly Neville felt safer that the Slytherin in the back of the class couldn't throw and jinxes his way, but other than that he felt pointless. He always felt pointless.

Neville's mind however began to remember a time when he didn't feel that way, quite the opposite actually. He began to slip into the dream from this morning, remembering the way he knew what to do, and where to put his hands. Her waist seemed to have the perfect curve to fit his large, awkward, hands to. She had curves, he realised, that he had never seen on a girl before, because she wasn't altogether slim like the other girls, but rather filled out and Neville was just remembering the best part when his attention was snapped with the slam of a door.

"You are late Miss Malfoy," Umbridge said in a shrill, passive aggressive tone that made the whole class cringe. Well, the whole class except Medella Malfoy who had just now walked in and was flouncing to her seat. Neville tried not to notice the way she swung her hips.

"Quite observant." Medella let out in a slow droll, she rolled her eyes and adjusted herself in her seat, leaning back with her arms crossed below her chest.

"You have been a dissruption to the class and I'm afraid it will cause you a detention." Umbridge persisted, though Medella was hardly listening.

"Oh drat," Medella whimpered, mocking the teacher, who was growing red in the face.

"I will not stand for such disrespect, young lady!" Umbridge cried, and the whole room waited with baited breath for Medella's reply. I'm sure the whole room was expecting a humble apology to pass the girls lips, but Neville knew it would never happen.

"Oh _fuck off_, Dolores," Medella moaned with the roll of her eyes. The class gasped at the obscene language and almost Gyrffindor bravery that had spilled out of Medella just then. Neville felt a surge of pride that could not be spoken for, and Dolores Umbridge had a pulsing vein at the top of her forhead that looked about ready to burst.

"GET OUT!" umbridge screamed, somehow resisting the urge to throw her china cup at the insolent little brat's head. She would see to it that this girl got the most excruciating punishment, but for now she needed to get this girl out of the class, before she said something else. She must maintain order.

xxx

Medella had been feeling like causing trouble all day. It was like an itch just under the skin, and it was driving her crazy. She wanted to scream, and to throw things, or maybe to just torment another person. Walking down to the dungeons and into her Potions class she knew exactly what to do that day. She spotted Neville Longbottom in his usual seat, across from her empty one, and the way he sat with his head in his hands caused her itch to burn underneath her skin. She walked into class and slid into the seat, putting her bag in her brothers empty seat and grabbing an apple out of it's depths. She made sure to shine the apple on her blouse before biting into it. She caught Neville watching her out of the corner of his eye. She hung her heavy lidded gaze on his, slowly luring his eyes to look her full on. She then looked away. Medella smirked to herself as she felt the boys gaze stay on her even when the professor had called the room to attention. Her brother had skipped out of classes that day, feigning a headache, but Medella knew the truth. Blaise had also decided to skip, though his reasons had more to do with the girl's skirt he was no doubt up right now. She was left alone with Neville, and that meant her plans would take action sooner rather than later.

Neville wondered if his luck could get worse, or better, or what he should think of this predicament he found himself in. With Medella Malfoy as his potions partner, with her hair up and off her beautiful face, and her sleeves pushed up and her skirt too high on her thighs when she sat next to him. He had no idea what to think when she leaned over him to add potions ingredients, and he had no idea what to think of his heart racing at her proximity.

"Are you even listening to me Longbottom," The dark Malfoy asked him, arching her brow at him dangerously. Neville snapped to attention, passing her the lacewing flies she had asked for, his large hands brushing hers as she took the jar from him. "Pay better attention next time. We wouldn't want you having an accident would we?"

Medella had meant it as a threat, but at Neville's blush she realized just how well her plan had to be working. She would have to ease up on her actions, but for some reason she couldn't, not yet. Medella instead looked up at the boy through her dark eyelashes, and spread her large lips into a knowing smirk, causing the boys cheeks and neck to flush a bright scarlet. She noticed the dark freckles he had across his neck, that were just covered by the starched white collar of his shirt. She twirled a curl around her fingertips and kept working.

xxx

Neville was in hogsmeade, after just signing up for Dumbledores army, he was walking back up to the castle and snow was falling. He felt good, as if something had clicked and this what he was supposed to be doing. He felt like his parents would be proud. The general air around him seemed to have changed, it was exhilarating. But perhaps that had more to do with his friends around him, and Hermione talking about rule breaking. Either way Neville knew that the good mood he found himself in had to do with the sheer Gryffindor air that hung about the students as they crossed into the castle from the cold. Neville was intent on finding a place for them to practice. Harry would help them to learn defense against the dark arts, in secret of course, but they needed a room first. As Neville roamed the castle the next few days he was intent on finding one, and on the way back from the library a week later he found it.

Medella had been looking to relieve her boredom and she had found a handsome seventh year Ravenclaw to help her with what she needed. She had just finished, choosing the room of requirement for privacy and appropriate accommodations for their activities. She was buttoning up her shirt when she stepped into the hallway and out of the come-and-go room. The boy had needed a moment to collect himself, but he was right behind her, when Neville Longbottom rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, wishing that his footfalls had been just a bit lighter, wanting to turn back without a word, but it was too late. Medella Malfoy had felt eyes on her, and as she looked up from her task of redressing herself she found him. Neville Longbottom, she smirked up at his presence, glad it wasn't anyone of note, like her brother, or a teacher. The boy behind her, Max, was fixing his belt and Medella huffed at the boy's incompetence. "Want to give me a hand with this?" He smirked up at her, thinking that he was being oh so clever. Neville winced, and Medella turned from one boy to the next. The little lions face held in her mind as she turned her wrath on the moronic Ravenclaw.

"Are you still here?" She spat unreasonably volatile, sending the Ravenclaw boy stumbling down the hall in the opposite direction. She wheeled her fury then on the little lion, who was fighting the urge to cower, and the urge to press her against the wall where the door once was. Did she know how beautiful she was.

Her dark features were drawn up and she looked like a panther, or even a viper waiting to strike, it was mesmerising. But when she spoke the poison stung, and Neville remembered that they could never be together. Despite the dreams he kept having.

"What are you looking at?" She spat at him, cooling down from her initial eruption at the Ravenclaw. Neville just stood there, not quite frozen to the spot.

"Nothing," He muttered, looking away from her, although still keeping the image of her dark eyes on him at the back of his mind. "I'll keep your secret," He added on like an after thought, thinking back to the time she'd shown the same courtesy months previous.

"I don't care who you tell Longbottom," she said, flipping her hair to the side so that all the curls piled on top of each other. Neville felt a pang of jealousy that the Ravenclaw had had the chance to run his hands through it. Neville wanted badly to touch it now.

As if Medella had sensed his need she ran her fingers through her hair in a way that made Neville want to melt. Perhaps he was melting, he felt his knees a little weaker than before.

"Look, I'm glad you feel the need for privacy, but I can assure you that Max will have already told anyone who'll listen. I have that effect on boys." Neville just looked at the floor, his shoes suddenly so interesting to him. He clenched his hands in his pockets, maybe because he couldn't hold her. "You'll make a girl quite happy one day Longbottom." Medella purred, a lot closer to him than she had been moments ago. Her fingers touched his chin lightly, and Neville almost let a low noise escape his throat, almost. She tilted his head so that he looked her in the eyes, and his lips were parted just slightly. "But you'll have to look them in the eyes first." She spoke, her breath sending shivers down his spine, he felt the tingle of her closeness all the way back to his common room, and all the way through the night.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Another chapter up and ready for y'all to read. Don't let me get in the way, just go ahead and read! Oh and also leave a review for me when you are done to let me know how I'm doing, and what I can do to meet your further reading needs.

It was three months into Medella Malfoy's plan and coincidentally three days into the plans that Harry Potter had for Dumbledores Army. Neville wandered down the sixth floor corridor nervous to start his first meeting in the DA, knowing that under Harry's proper teaching him and his fellow Gryffindors could stand a chance. He felt a bright hope boiling in his chest that he hadn't felt in a while. Looking down he fingered the buttons on his navy cardigan, one that had been his fathers, and although the fit was a little broad in the shoulders and longer than his own clothes, it still felt like the right thing to wear. If only he had something of his mums, then he would have everything he needed, he would have his family together again.

Too long, Neville thought to himself as he rounded another corner, it has been too long since he last went to see them. He knew that he would have to wait until christmas, but somehow as the years went on and his understanding grew, he felt guilty. He felt this way because he didn't go to see them often, and because when he did visit he could never stay long; he was never brave enough. Then he felt hurt, for them, and for him, and mostly for feeling guilty. It was like a weight on his shoulders, having two parents who were physically there, to touch and hold, and talk to, but yet there was no one listening, or feeling. It was as if they were just statues, but then he would remember his mother's breath against his shoulder when he held her, and his father's glassy eyes, terrified, moving back and forth like he was forever reading the worst news of his life. Neville felt the hope drain from his body, and as he crashed into something rounding his last corner he almost didn't notice the impact.

Medella Malfoy had been on her way to the library, seeing as her potions paper hadn't even been started. Stupid Blaise Zabini had left it to the last minute and left her stranded with it, and the rest of her work. She was stressed, although on the outside she hardly looked it. Only her brother, who had years of practice could tell, the way she chewed out everyone she passed, and the way she nervously played with her clothes, those were some of her usual tells, and right now they were saying stay away. So walking down the halls on the sixth floor she was shocked to find someone in her way, instead of moving to the opposite side of the hall, or even running away altogether.

They came together or rather they collided, Neville's arms instinctively wrapped around the body in front of him, still unaware of the beauty he had just disturbed. Medella cursed wildly as her nose hit a tall, lean chest and her bag fell open at their feet. The impact sent her backwards, though her natural grace kept her on her feet. She looked up into the eyes of the boy in front of her, half expecting absolute fear to be written on his expression. Although as her eyes hit his it was her who faltered. She hadn't been expecting him, and for nearly three months she had made it her mission to be expecting him. She had made it her goal to get into his head, she had never expected to wind up in his arms. Medella felt her cheeks warm, but it was not embarrasment, it was absolute anger. How dare he cause her to stumble, how dare he stand there, completely unafraid, comfortable even.

Neville must have been dreaming. He simply had to be, because this was how most of his dreams always started. Acidentally bumping into Medella Malfoy was not something that one did often, but looking at her there still somewhat awkwardly in his arms, he had no idea why he hadn't done it sooner; she was beautiful. Perhaps it was that she had let her guard down. She hadn't dropped it all together, but he could see that her eyes were wide, he could tell she was stressed, he could tell that she was thinking, and flustered. Her cheeks might've even coloured a little. Neville could've sworn he was dreaming, because this all felt too good to him.

His eyes were a warm chocolate brown, and they seemed to be watching her, moulding over her every feature, as if in a liquid state. His mouth was open, and it was quirked up in the corners, half a smile and half a smirk. Medella knew he wasn't aware of the way his lips were moving, the smirk had to be a subconscious expression. It made her wonder what other things would come naturally to him, and all of a sudden she was angry again. Furious at his hands still holding her waist, his fingers steady on her school blouse. Furious at his smirk, and his subconscious sureness, it battled with her own confidence, one that she felt shrinking inside her.

"Watch where you're going, you bloody little stain!" She spat, his face recoiled as if her words were actual fire that bit hot flames across his skin. "Insolent fucking Gryffindor blood traitor." She pushed him back, unsatisfied with her words and needing to physically strike out. He hit the wall behind him, but Neville did not shrink away from the impact of her. Instead he just stood there, mouth parted and confused. His clothing was disheveled from her aggression, and he looked like a strange mix of pathetic and strong that she could put her finger on.

"Why are you so mean?" He questioned, she was simply picking her things up off the ground as if she hadn't just screamed and hit him. Her dark eyes flicked to his and she flashed a dangerous smirk. Neville had to remember to breath.

"It's hereditary," Neville cursed himself for asking such a stupid question, and her for giving such an honest answer. Her family, half of which was, will be, or is currently in Azkaban prison for horrendous crimes. Crimes committed against his family, his shattered family. It was all too sharp of a reminder for him.

"I suppose it is," He swallowed down hoping to clear the bitter taste from his mouth, but nothing helped, especially when she raised an arched brow up at him from her spot on the floor. Her dark hair was all around her face and Neville's fingers ached with the need to touch it. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, or feeling, because she swept up her dark curls and flipped them over to the side, sending it sprawling like a black waterfall, to cut across her angled cheek.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Medella questioned the boy, watching scarlet flush up his long neck. "Or are you the sort that helps a lady?" It was a challenge and he knew it. But that didn't mean that he knew the right answer. He dropped to his knees anyway, picking up the nearest quills and books and handing them back to her. She watched him work, collecting her things and handing them to her, taking care not to touch her skin or look her in the eyes. He could be so confident, he could take her pushing him around, but then he could be this, innocent little thing, cowering behind his longish brown hair. It drove her crazy.

Medella grabbed his wrist, holding tightly causing him to swallow again, his mouth suddenly dry. She pulled his attention from the floor to her face. Neville had to remind himself of everything, of his name, his surroundings, he had to remind himself of everything but the foreign feeling of her ice cold fingers on his arm. He looked into her eyes, not sure if he would find anger or intrigues there, or something even worse.

"You'll have to look at me," She spoke, her voice only at a low whisper, that's all it needed to reach him in this closeness. "If you want to see me again, you'll have to look."

And damn if Neville didn't take the bait, she had laid it down so nicely for him. Look at her and it shows you want to, Neville thought, and forget about not looking at her, because Neville wasn't a liar, and he wouldn't start lying to himself now and say that he had that much self control. He was curious to see what was in her eyes, and how she could go from angry to _this_ in no time at all. His brown eyes flashed to hers, and he could see grey and green muddled together in her near black irises. Neville felt her hand leave his wrist and he swiftly caught a glimpse of the marks she'd left with her nails. Neville needed to leave. He vaguely remembered that he had been on his way somewhere before this girl had broken up his frame of mind. He needed to tell her that he had to leave, but somehow he was trapped beneath her gaze.

"I, um," He tried so hard to break free, "I have to go," Medella didn't know why a lump had formed at the base of her throat, but she swallowed it without a second thought. She had let this go on long enough, and besides, she had a potions paper to write.

"Of course." She smirked, "The world would stop if Neville Longbottom didn't enter the room on time," He laughed a bit, knowing somehow that she was only joking. Even though her tone was dark, it was just a show, like the rest of her.

xxx

"Nice of you to show up Neville!" Fred, or George, Weasley called out as he walked through the large oak doors and into the room of requirement, that was currently required for training in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which Harry would be guiding them through. Neville was a good kind of nervous. "Where were you then?" George, it had to be George called.

"Not up some bird's skirt I hope," Fred mocked horror over his twin's shoulder. Neville was a little put out by the joke, was it really that unbelieveable that he had been with a girl, even if it wasn't exactly the sort of thing they were suggesting. Neville didn't know what it was.

"No, just caught up in a good book on Havensgrass and it's unique magical qualities in-" Neville was cut off by the Weasley boys, who had gone on to the next thing, telling Neville that they weren't exactly interested. Neville would bet that they would be interested in what he had been caught up with. Who wouldn't be interested in Medella Malfoy.

xxx

The black haired girl had fallen asleep in the library, she had spent the entire night there, in the very back, behind a tower of books like she was Hermione fucking Granger. She was far from pleased as she stomped down the halls to the dungeons, sending glares at any and every student who dared cross her. It was as if a warning signal had gone out to say that Medella Malfoy was in a bad mood, and no one would approach her except for her brother Draco, and perhaps not even him. She had hexed a first year that had got in her way, and then a third year who hadn't averted her eyes when Medella had walked by.

After missing the first half of class to collect herself and shower out the dusty parchment stench that seemed to cling to her robes and left her smelling like the bushy haired Gryffindor bookworm, she strutted into class and fell into her seat lavishly. Snape, who had been quietly scowling at the front of the class, was not impressed. In fact he was nearly livid at the disrespect. She smirked as the dark cloaked menace appeared at her side, demanding an explination. Neville across from her visibly paled and she remembered back to their third year when he had turned the Boggart Snape into something ridiculous.

Neville watched as Snape loomed over their desks, demanding the attention of all the students except of course Medella. Instead of feeling intimidated by his dark presence, like Neville did, she started laughing. Her loud voice carring over the class and sending shivers down Nevilles long spine. She had a laugh that was haunting. It sounded like she would turn and kill you on spot, but at the same time it was a sound that you would die to hear again. It was just another one of the many paradoxes that made up the black haired Malfoy.

"Miss Malfoy," Snape drawled out slow and dangerously. Her head tilted to him, as if giving him permission to continue. "You're late to my class and for that I will take fifty points from Slytherin and I will also be seeing you tonight for detention."

"If you wanted to see me after class Severus you only had to ask," She smirked, sarcastic seduction dripping from her low voice. In that moment Snape could only think of her deadly aunt who he, fortunately, hadn't seen in years. Bellatrix Black had been a terror to the school, and the staff, and it seemed as though her shadow of a niece would be exactly the same. Snape stiffened before responding to the salacious teen in front of him.

"Do you want to make it a double detention Miss Malfoy?" He questioned sternly.

"Do you professor?" She maimed innocence while being anything but.

"Perhaps then we should make it a week of detentions under 's keen eye." Snape sneered, before twisting away from the insolent child. Medella only leaned back satisfyed, she could play Filch easier than she could recite the alphabet. Getting out a paper and pen she was anything but upset at her day so far, because despite her rocky morning things were looking up.

She had been thinking long and hard about her plans regarding Neville Longbottom, and she was ready to take the next step, or rather he was ready for the next step to be thrust upon him. She could tell he had been thinking of her. Call it a woman's intuition but the time he spent staring at her collarbone instead of his coursework meant he had been thinking about her a lot. This meant that the only logical thing for her to do would be to increase stimulus, because the last thing she wanted was for Neville Longbottom to be comfortable.

It was on the way from his last class to the library when Neville felt a small hand tugging him sharply off track and into a nearby empty classroom. Neville felt his heartbeat spike in his chest, thinking at first that it was Draco Malfoy and his goons out to get him again. After all it was always him who had the unfortunate luck to encounter Draco Malfoy at his worst. Neville shrunk back against the wall, he wanted to get this over with preferably with the least amount of struggle, but a little pull in his gut made him stand a little taller. Perhaps it was his dad who gave him this courage, or maybe his mum had passed it down, but whoever was to blame had given him a faulty sense of bravery that was hiding within him, always just below the surface.

"Get it over with then Malfoy," Neville stammered, his eyes closed bracing for some sort of impact. Medella had to look at him in that moment. This boy was such a mystery to her. Something that started off as fun had soon become such a headache for her. She was supposed to be the one in control. _She_ was supposed to be making_ him_ crazy. It was never supposed to be the otherway around, but here he stood ready to take a beating, and she wasn't sure if he was being brave or pathetic.

"Relax Longbottom I'm not here to hit you again." Medella drawled, amused at the reaction her voice got from him. His eyes squinted open and his face was screwed up in confusion. She noticed that his eyes were too brown to be real, it was like the imported chocolate her father got her every birthday. His lips were parted as well, it seemed they always were, but Medella had no idea when she started noticing that.

"I thought you were you're brother," Neville admitted honestly and Medella could only smirk. Since when did he confide in her. And since when did Draco strike more fear into a person than she did. She watched as the boy in front of her brought his eyes from her eyes to her lips to her hand still tangled in his shirt. Medella let go of his Gryffindor emblazoned cardigan, stepping back from him and fixing the young lion with a hard stare.

"I know we're twins but come on Longbottom give me a bit more credit than that." Neville couldn't argue with her on that, she was by far his favourite Malfoy, to look at and otherwise. Her lips spread wide over her mouth, he thought for a moment it could be a genuine smile that played at the corners of her large mouth, but it was just a smirk; like always. Her hair was down, and the curls fell to her waist. Neville wanted to do something about the twitch in his hands and the lump in his throat. But of course she beat him to it.

Medella knew his head was swimming, and she knew it didn't help that her skirt was an inch higher than usual and her blouse had been adjusted to flaunt certain aspects of her figure. She knew it would make him mental and thats exactly what she came here to do. She waited until his chocolate eyes were locked onto her midnight irises before getting too close. She brought her hands up to press into his tall shoulders, they were broad, but it seemed that the sweater he was wearing was tailored for someone broader. Medella let out a breath, suddenly uncertain about the plan she was setting in motion, but if she was anything like her aunt, she was impulsive. It was only a second later than when she let her eyes fall shut that her lips found his.

Neville was in shock. He was also in awe, and he was definitely trying to figure out what the bloody hell just happened. Mostly he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Medella fucking Malfoy kissing him in an abandoned classroom, but when she started to mould her lips to his with her head tilted to the left all the thought he'd ever had left his mind. His large hands dipped to her waist and his lips filled the space that hers left. It felt like he was a beehive, and his body was buzzing with bees trying to escape him. Neville didn't think this could ever get better, and then she opened her mouth. Her lips parted against his and her tongue brushed slowly against the bottom of his lip.

Medella wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head more to part his lips with her tongue. She found herself going at a slower pace than she would usually prefer, and she couldn't believe herself. She was kissing Neville Longbottom, the pathetic little lion, and she wasn't hating it. In fact, when his lips parted against hers and his surprise was felt up by her tongue she liked the way it felt when he breathed into her. She liked the way his hands gripped tighter at her hips, and she definitely liked the way she could feel his confidence growing as she pressed him further.

Neville had his back up against a wall, but for once it wasn't a bad feeling. Not when what had him stuck there was Medella, and not when she had her fingers playing in his hair at the base of his neck. Not when he had his hands at her waist and he could finally feel the curve of her hips. But all too soon the kiss was over, at least it felt soon to him. Everything felt too soon when he could do this for ever.

"Why did you do that?" Neville asked after Medella had cleared his airspace and he had somewhat cleared his head. He still felt an unbelievable buzz resounding through him, but the questions that had been on mute were returning. Medella just smirked at him, fixing her hair and appearance before making for the door.

"Why wouldn't I is the better question." The last thing he saw was her looking back at him, she gave him a wink and flounced out into the hallway. Neville could only stare at the spot in front of him that she had left empty. _Why wouldn't I? _What kind of bloody question was that? Neville thought to himself in a increasingly frustrated state. What did he have to offer her, except a laugh. He was so pathetic it was laughable, Neville thought of himself darkly. But when his hands held her that wasn't the case, he was hardly pathetic when he was snogging the Slytherin Princess.

It settled on him then, as he stepped out of the empty classroom and made his way back to the common room, that he had just snogged Medella Malfoy. His first ever kiss had been with Medella fucking Malfoy, and it had made his knees weak. The very thought of it sent him spinning, but it was a dizzying kind of elation that he couldn't share with anyone. Who would ever believe him?

xxx

Medella could only say that she loved playing with fire, and even more she loved it when she escaped getting burned. It was that evening in Filch's office where she found herself with little more than a warning and a "good night", instead of the week long detention she had been given. And it was all thanks to Dolores Jane Umbridge. Umbridge had grown quite the reputation in her few short months at Hogwarts. Already she, and the Ministry, had taken over the ruling of the school. The gaudy pink toad made a new rule every minute and Filch, everyones least favourite caretaker was the one who enforced them. He seemed to love her, finally taking his eye off Mrs. Norris to ogle the nasty new Defense teacher.

Medella wasn't the only one to notice 's keen interest in the professor, but she was the only one to use it to her advantage. On the Malfoy girl's first night of detention she had been tasked with cleaning the rafters. Then she had made up some lie about Umbridge needing to see him and in seconds he was down the hall and out of sight. When he came back Medella was crying on the floor, claiming she had fallen off the ladder. Medella threatened to tell the headmaster and of course her father about the dangerous task and the negligence she had witnessed if Filch didn't let her skip the rest of her detentions.

So this is how she found herself, in the library instead of in detentions, with a truly wicked smile on her face. She was hidden in the back, finally finished with her transfiguration essay and now onto herbology when something else caught her eye.

Hermione Granger was standing two tables over, talking excitedly with a brown haired boy. It was not Granger in the library that was worthy of her attention, but rather the tall, awkward boy that was seated next to her. He was smiling up at her, she had perhaps said something friendly, and Hermione's hand was on his. Medella sneered at the sight. Even Neville Longbottom could do better than her. In fact he had, just two days ago with her in an empty classroom on the fifth floor. Medella tried to focus on her essay, but with the sight so plainly in front of her she simply couldn't.

She was hardly jealous, but it seemed that when the brilliant witch left she was scowling at the boy. Didn't he have something else to do than to sit in the library with Granger? Shouldn't she have something better to do than to sit in the library and watch him with Granger? It seemed as though she didn't, but she could have a little fun now that the other girl had gone.

Neville had just finished his session with Hermione. He felt ashamed at taking up his friend's time with his stupidity, but he wouldn't be passing transfiguration without her, and certainly not potions. Neville wasn't dumb, but when the teachers were intimidating he found it quite hard to concentrate on a lesson. Hermione was a far better use to him than Snape when it came to learning, he didn't have to flinch when Hermione taught him.

Neville was putting away his school books and pulling out his old copy of Herbology in the United Kingdom, when he felt a presence at his side.

"Did you forget something Hermione?" He asked, taking his time to remember his place on the page before looking up at his company. He faltered when his eyes met the steely gaze of Medella Malfoy. Her hands were on her hips, and Neville didn't know what he'd done but he desperately wished he could undo it.

"Did You?" She arched a dark eyebrow at the boy. "Was our time together so forgettable?" She deadpanned slipping into the seat beside him and leaning her torso onto the table in front of her, looking up at him as he tried to grasp at an explanation.

"She's my tutor," Neville let out with a faint slump of his shoulders. Medella sat upright and peered at him through thick lashes. Longbottom was telling the truth, but why was he always so ashamed of it.

"I don't like false loyalties," Medella fixed him with a penetrating stare, and Neville fought the urge to shy away. He knew she didn't like it when he didn't look at her directly. "Especially from you." Neville wondered what that meant, before thinking that maybe she was joking. Medella of course was not joking, but she laughed anyway. Neville looked around the room, hoping no one heard her loud outburst, but thankfully no one was around.

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me Longbottom," She questioned in a low tone, leaning closer to the boy now that she knew his sole focus was her. Neville gulped down the lump that formed in his throat at their increasing proximity. He tried not to think of the last time she was this close.

"No, aren't you?" He asked, his voice slightly thicker than normal. He looked down at his books, unable to meet her eyes as he waited for the answer. He could hear Medella sigh loudly from beside him.

"I don't like it when you think so little of yourself Neville, it just welcomes everyone around you to do the same." She spoke, and Neville snapped his gaze to hers, wondering why such civil words were coming from her. She was a Slytherin; her family ruined his, and the lot of them thought he was a blood traitor. It didn't make any sense. But as she continued to stare at him with her head held high and her jaw locked tightly he didn't mind one bit. She was truly beautiful, and she could be civil in her own right.

Medella wondered where this caring side came from, usually she was entirely apathetic to her victims, and her friends, and to everyone really. But something about the way Neville's eyes could hardly meet her own, and then something about the way he stared when he could strike up the courage to look at her, it had her second guessing herself.

"Why did you kiss me the other day?" Neville asked in a brave attempt to get answers. His voice was cautious but it drew her out of her thoughts all the same. Oh my god he was daft, Medella thought to herself, did he need her to spell it out for him.

"Why do you insist on asking stupid questions Longbottom? I did it for the same reason I do everything else I do, I just wanted to." Medella told her half truth, she had wanted to, but it was more to do with making him crazy than wanting him.

Medella grabbed her things off the table and left, leaving Neville alone to think about what had just happened. It seemed that Neville was always wondering that with her. He desperately needed to change that, but right now he needed to get lost in the simplicity and ease of herbology. Then he would go straight to bed and hopefully wouldn't dream of the very girl who was causing all this insanity.

xxx

A week went by, and Neville still had questions for the ebony haired Malfoy, but of course it had been a whole week and not one of those questions had been answered. Or even asked really, Neville was too much of a coward to actually ask any of them. He had no idea which version of Medella Malfoy he would get if he did. Would he get the civil girl, who had snogged him senseless? Or would he get the other girl, the cruel girl who held his parents above him like torture? He just didn't know, and so he waited for Medella to approach him, and hoped that she would be in high spirits when she did.

It didn't help that she stared at him all the time, and it certainly didn't help that her skirts seemed to get shorter every time she strutted by; not that he had noticed of course. He couldn't afford to notice things like that. Not with all his extra time used to practice the defensive spells that Harry had been teaching them. It was two weeks till Christmas Holidays, and while everyone else seemed to be learning and improving, Neville was stuck on the basic spells that even third years had mastered.

He was currently in Umbridge's Defense of a Dark Arts class, if you could even call it that, and he was practicing his wand movements under the table in what he hoped was a discreet way. _Swish and flick, but don't flourish your wand too much, _Neville remembered Harry's teachings, thinking that what he was doing was similar if not quite the same.

Medella was just about to doze off out of boredom. Her hands were folded in front of her on the desk, and her head rested heavily on them. She had been watching Longbottom, out of habit of course, but even that had grown boring. She was about to close her dark lids when a movement caught her eye. Longbottom had something under his desk, and by the look of his shifty eyes it was something that needed to be hidden. Medella was intrigued, and certainly not bored anymore. She straightened up and arched her neck to watch him, or more specifically the movement in his lap. Medella smirked thinking the worst. Neville Longbottom had undeniably bad luck and had been the centre of some pretty cringe inducing scenarios, but getting an unwelcome arousal in class had to be the worst yet.

Neville scrunched up his face in focus, trying harder to get the movements down, he bit his lip and recalled Harry saying that speed sometimes helped in carrying out swift and precise spells. He certainly needed all the help he could get, especially when it came to wand work. So he increased his speed, flicking his wrist in the swish and flick motions that he had gone over seemingly hundreds of times. He nearly dropped his wand in his efforts.

Medella bit her lip to keep from laughing. Not that she would've cared, but somehow drawing attention to his problem seemed too cruel, even for her. Instead she watched as his movements became more frantic and she would've thought he was taking care of business right there in the classroom if it weren't for his pained expression. He seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble. Medella was just leaning to get a better look when her brother caught her attention.

"Who are you looking at?" He whispered at her, his voice harsh and questioning despite his hushed tones. The blond boy had been worried about his sister. Instead of sleeping through the class she had been avidly watching the Gryffindor side of the room. Was the girl planning something? She had to be, there was nothing else so interesting to get Medella's fleeting attention. It might be Harry Potter, Draco thought, the boy was always up to something, and this year he seemed to have all his Gryffindor followers in on it too.

"No one in particular, brother mine." Medella smirked to her twin. He always worried about her too much. Even when they were kids he would worry about her going off on her own. They always kept tabs on each other, but over the years Medella didn't feel the need to as much as her dear protective brother. "Stop worrying about me. I can handle myself."

"That's what worries me," Draco mumbled to himself, but Della had heard and was smiling at him. She had a lovely smile, but it looked out of place on her dark features. Her strong jaw wasn't firmly set in place, and her eyes crinkled in a way that was contagious.

Medella couldn't help but flick her eyes to Neville one last time before the bell sounded the end of classes. She was planning to skip out on Divination, and honestly who could blame her, the class was almost as pointless as Defense, and that was before Professor Trewlany was under scrutiny from Umbridge. Medella was planning on skipping Divination, but as she exited class she hadn't had any plans of following the back of a tall, brown head all the way to the library.

Neville went right to the back of the quiet room, weaving in between shelves and a few students, to get to the Herbology section. He wasn't surprised to find the section empty, but he was surprised to find Medella coughing loudly from behind him. He spun around quickly, his heart racing upon hearing her, then increasing upon seeing her so brazen in front of him.

"D-did you follow me?" Neville stuttered, using his full lips to voice his thoughts incredulously. His brow was furrowed and it brought age to his face that had yet to appear.

"No, I too enjoy the wonders of Herbology," Medella drawled sarcastically. "Of course I followed you here _Lion_." Medella let her words hang there before continuing, and she could almost see Neville chewing out and digesting each one. "I saw your little problem in class today,"

Neville faltered, much like he always seemed to do around her. His forehead screwed up in a way that plainly said _what do you mean_. Medella sighed and pushed her back from the bookshelf that she had been leaning against. Of course she would have to spell it out for him.

"You looked like you were having a hard time, if you know what I mean." Neville if it was possible got even more confused, this time however he voiced his chagrin.

"What are you talking about?" Neville pushed back the hair that was suddenly clinging to his forehead. He must look ridiculous, but no more than Medella was being in this moment.

"Don't worry, I'm sure no one else noticed, and I hear it's pretty common." Medella gave a pitying look, or at least the closest thing to it that she was capable of. Neville seemed to finally get what she was on about, and as his eyes grew wide Medella started to think that maybe she had misinterpreted the situation.

"No! I can't believe you thou- no! I didn't! I-I swear!" As Neville saw the beautiful girl in front of him arch her brows and fold her arms over her chest he realized that maybe the easiest thing to do now would be to tell the truth. "I was practicing spells."

"and why would you need to do that?" Medella questioned her head tilted to the side as she glared up at the boy in front of him. She had stepped forward so that he was backed up against the shelf he had been standing across from, and her arms brushed his chest.

"Because I'm hopeless, honestly." Neville raised his hands as if in surrender, and Medella decided that she believed him, despite the furious blush that featured across his cheeks. He must be telling the truth because he would not be able to look her in the eyes otherwise. Della now intrigued felt a strange urge to help the boy in front of her. After all, she was good at spells, certainly better than him.

"What sorts of spells Longbottom?" Medella spoke softly, realizing just how close she had come to the shy boy. She could hear his breath hitch in his throat and could see him swallow the shyness that had crept up on him.

"Defensive spells," He answered her not thinking of the secretive nature of the DA, and not caring about the way he complied with her so easily.

"I think I can help you in that," Medella smirked up at him, bringing her hands up to brush his brown hair back from his eyes, her lips brushed his in a way that left Neville breathless, despite how short the contact was. "Along with other things." Medella flashed her eyes to his before leaving the library knowing that he was watching her.

AN: So happy Valentines Day (oops this is up late isn't it!), I thought I'd show Neville some love today. Hope you enjoy and review please I want to know what you are all thinking. Is it in character, is it not? Is it realistic? do you enjoy reading? I have so many more questions that you could answer in a review, or you could ask the questions in a review as well. So do it, please!

Kit


	6. Chapter 6

Ever since their encounter in the library where Medella had offered to help Neville practice his spell work; and ever since she had left a note for him, written in the margins of his potions book in a curvy cursive, telling him to come to the third floor corridor by the warthog statue, he had been waiting. He had been waiting and wondering what their next encounter would have in store. Would she be nice -rather, as nice as she could be- or would she be cruel to him yet again? So with no real answer, or even an inclination at an answer, Neville waited beside the towering hog statue, slightly uncomfortable at the idea, and more than slightly excited.

Medella saw him before he could notice her. He was standing out of the way, as if he were unintentionally hiding himself. She noticed that he was out of his uniform, as she was too after a long school day. He was wearing jeans, an odd muggle pant, and a striped sweater that looked older than the two of them combined. Medella wondered if he was poor, or if he simply chose to wear ill-fitting hand-me-downs. He had his wand in his hand, which he was distractedly tapping against his thigh. The dark witch was glad to see that he was still so obviously nervous at the sight of her, but she wasn't at all expecting the slight nerves that he brought to her. She wasn't expecting to like the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. She wasn't expecting to admire the way his adams apple bobbed nervously in his slender throat. And Medella Malfoy certainly was not expecting to have to remind herself just _who_ she was looking at. Looking at the boy, standing nervously by the statue, had Medella Malfoy struggling to remember just what kind of game she was playing.

Neville felt her hand slip into his before he was pulled along down the hall with a force he wasn't expecting. Her curls were piled high on her head, though many were falling loose around her face. She was wearing a large sweater that practically swallowed up her frame, and Neville decided not to notice how stunning she looked in the trademark Slytherin green. Instead he focused on the fact that her small hand was still wrapped tightly around his, as she tugged him into an open, and empty, classroom. He was still looking at their hands intertwined as she turned around to face him with a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of her generous mouth.

"So what sorts of spells did you need to practise?" Medella asked, her tone and bluntness cutting through mostly all of the questions and anticipation that Neville had been drowning in for days. She was staring at him with her large, dark eyes, and under her heavy hooded gaze he found himself melting. Tugging at the sleeves of his sweater he answered her.

"Defensive spells, you know, like _expelliarmus_, I can't seem to get that one." The tall boy trailed off as though he were ashamed at his obvious lack of skill. Medella eyed him up and down.

"What do you need defensive spells for?" She asked with equal parts amusement and suspicion. Neville nearly sighed in defeat. He couldn't tell her the whole truth, but he could tell her half of it. He met her waiting gaze, and his chocolate eyes seemed to hold her to the spot.

"Your brother and his friends aren't the nicest lot." He looked up at her, his head bowed and his hand scratching his neck as though he was regretting telling her this. Medella regretted it too, because she had a giant possessive knot form in the base of her stomach that she didn't know what to do with. She wanted nothing more than to go pick a fight with her brother, or anyone else who'd had a go at the lion hearted boy in front of her. However, Medella did something she had never done before, she swallowed the urge to fight and pretended it was because even as a child she didn't like to share her toys.

"Alright then Longbottom, but remember, you asked for it."

Neville would be lying to himself if he said that the sight of Medella Malfoy standing in front of him with her wand at the ready didn't scare him at least a little bit. That perhaps all this was some cruel joke, and that she would hex him into the next year when his guard was down. Then again, his guard had been down for quite sometime, and so far she'd kissed him, screamed at him, and did he mention she had kissed him. So Neville stood across from her, wand at the ready, and hoping that when he cast the spell that it would actually work; he didn't want to look more pathetic than he felt already, not in front of her.

"Wait!," Medella cried before quickly conjuring up some pillows, just in case she was knocked down in the learning process, "Alright now you can start." She said, preparing herself for the blast. Neville almost smirked at the short, dark girl.

"You probably won't need those," He gestured to the mound of cushions. "I'm not that good."

"That's why we're practising, love." Medella waved away his disheartened comment, without even thinking. Neville faltered, what had she just called him? He didn't have time to think it over, he didn't want to think it over, instead he whipped his wand up and cast the spell.

"_Expelliarmus." _He cried, but the spell missed his target, leaving Medella untouched and amused.

xxx

"That wasn't so bad," She smirked as his fifth try missed her by at least a foot.

"That was hopeless," Neville sighed, visibly deflating. Medella sighed, tired of his lack of confidence. She had begun to notice how he would berate himself after a loss, and it was wearing down her last nerve; but like always she had a plan.

"Let's just try a different tactic." Neville heard her say as she walked up to him. Grabbing his wand hand she lifted it into a proper duelling stance. She then brushed up so that her lips were quite close to his ear. "When you get it right," she whispered feeling him inhale sharply at her antics, "You get a reward."

With that she flounced back to her spot and turned to face him, holding her wand out and ready. She gave him one last smirk before he pulled his wand out and tried again. Neville screwed his eyes shut, and felt his gut tighten as he nearly yelled the spell. It was only when he heard a soft thud and the harsh clattering of a wand hitting the floor did he look up and see Medella sprawled out across the cushions. Neville couldn't help the large grin that broke out onto his face. It was an expression Medella mirrored as she picked herself off the floor and waltzed her way over to him.

"And you said we wouldn't need the pillows," Medella smirked, arching a dark eyebrow at him. Neville couldn't help himself, and he blamed an adrenaline rush, when he placed his large hands on either side of her waist. He couldn't help it when he brushed his lips down near her ear, just as she had done to him minutes ago, and whispered,

"That was before you made things interesting."

Medella nearly gasped. It was a wonder to her how she held it in, but the leftover, pent-up confidence that was spilling out of this Gryffindor lion was making her head spin. It was as if the spell had knocked her into another dimension; one where he had the smooth lines and she was the one flustered, speechless, breathless. It wasn't even a thought to her then, it was an instinct, a need. She leaned up against him, quite liking the feel of his chest steady beneath her fingertips, enjoying the feel of his oversized hands stretching across her waist, playing with the thick knit of her jumper. She took just a second to breathe the same air as him, and felt the heat radiating off his now red cheeks. She liked the look of him, with his full lips and his lidded eyes, anticipating her. She was teasing him, with her lips so close to his, but she never thought that it would be him to close the distance.

Neville relished the feel of her shocked mouth against his, especially when she came to her senses and started to feverishly move her lips with his. She leaned into him in a way that made Neville feel useful, needed. She reached up now, inching her hands over his chest and up into his chocolate curls. Neville made an unfamiliar sound when she softly pulled at his hair. The noise, which had caught in the back of his throat, made him falter. He pulled back to look Medella, who was now staring up at him with a lazy smirk and a heady gaze.

"Why did you stop," She asked, unable to help herself. Unable to stop the disappointment she felt and the slight whine in her tone.

"I, um, I was - I uh," Neville was at a loss for words and he was slightly embarrassed at how hard his breaths were coming out, "I've never done this before." He looked to the ground, trying to ignore her dark eyes boring into him, his crimson flush, and her slender fingers splayed across his chest.

"That just means you're mine to mold" She said, wrapping her arms around him and once more pulling him into their intoxicating embrace.

xxx

Draco noticed his sister slip into the common room immediately. Of course everyone noticed his sister immediately, and this time was no different. As she made her way to the black leather couches he noticed that the room watched her descent, it was as if no one had anything better to do. Draco scoffed at the looks on the boys faces, it was one that elected only pity from the blond boy; after all, they could never handle his dark sister.

However that didn't mean she was completely unattainable. She did stupid things when she was bored. Draco noticed the slight mess to her hair and the smugness of her smirk.

"What have you been doing, Dels?" Draco asked, an amused sneer on his striking pale features. "Or rather who have you been doing."

"Does it matter," Della sighed in a slightly forced tone. Only her brother could pick up the irritation among her words, and it was only from years of practise.

"I can smell him on you," Draco said haughtily, disgust clear on his features. In some ways, Della thought, he could be just like their father. "Smells like garden soil,"

"What does?" Blaise asked falling onto the couch and lazily draping an arm across Medella's small shoulders. Medella laughed, not really caring who heard her.

"Apparently I do." She spoke slowly, becoming bored of her familiar surroundings. "I suppose a shower will fix that though." As she stood up from the couch the whole room could hear her. "Wouldn't want brother dearest to be upset." Draco simply rolled his eyes and watched her leave.

xxx

Neville was currently surrounded by the Golden Trio, and the rest of his Gryffindor classmates, in the great hall for dinner. It was odd to listen to everyone talk around him, about their days, about classes, and especially about the DA. They had met up once a week, in the room of requirement -which Neville had found, thanks to Medella- to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts from the one and only Harry Potter. Harry was an amazing teacher, Neville thought, and apparently so did everyone else because at the Gryffindor Table that was all anyone could talk about. Neville was fading in and out of the conversation, not saying much of anything, because as far as they knew he couldn't even manage a disarming spell. Well, he couldn't manage one then, but after his lesson with the dark haired Malfoy he had mastered it.

"Neville what do you think?" The boy's attention was snapped back into focus as the clever witch, Hermione Granger, asked him about his opinion. Neville had no idea what the conversation had been about, but he was sure it wasn't about what him and Medella had been up to all day.

"Erm, sorry Hermione, I wasn't paying attention." Neville blushed as he mumbled, eyes looking down at his potatoes.

"I was just talking about how we should communicate, you know as the DA." Hermione spoke clearly, but not loudly. "I think some of the Snakes are getting curious, that and Umbridge is banning clubs. Preposterous if you ask me, what threat is the Wizarding Chess team to the Ministry, I mean honestly," Neville just nodded along as Hermione seemed to get lost in her rant. The Ministry had been interfering with Hogwarts ever since Umbridge had started, but it was beginning to get out of control. "Perhaps we should have something akin to the Dark Mark, obviously not a tattoo, but so that Harry can call us to assemble when the time comes." She mumbled the last bit to herself, seeming to get lost in all her thoughts. Neville was content to just sit there, while Harry and Ron looked to Hermione baffled, as if after all these years her train of thought was still unreadable to them.

xxx

It was Christmas time, or nearly there, Medella was counting down the days until she could leave for the Manor again. It would be two weeks until she could load herself into the familiar train and see her parents again. Until then she had to settle for the familiar face of her brother, who was currently lazing beside her in the library. She was finishing up her Charms essay, scrawling in a curvy cursive across the page, completely uninterested. She hadn't seen Neville in three days, which was largely due to the blond haired Malfoy that sat beside her.

Draco hadn't left his sister's side for a week. He had subtly kept her under his watchful green gaze, and it was slowly suffocating Medella. Every morning she would get ready and he would be there, waiting to walk her to class, to study with her, to lounge in the common room with her, and it was driving her mental. She was one more second away from snapping, and like a ticking time bomb she sat beside her brother, buzzing with unstable energy.

"Are you finished yet?" Draco sighed, practically feeling his eyes glaze over from boredom. He wanted to get a broom session in before it got too cold out, but he knew that he needed to be here; not to protect his sister, but to protect the Malfoy Name. Medella beside him snapped her quill, and the blond cursed himself for not recognizing her immense agitation sooner, if only to avoid one of her more nasty moods. Deciding to leave before Medella opted to destroy the library he got up and walked out, head held high, knowing that in some way she would get him back. "whatever, I'll be at the pitch. Try not to do anything too stupid; or should I say anyone."

"Filthy fucking fucker," She swore under her breath as she watched her brother leave, she was unable to hold back the sigh of relief at him leaving her in peace, or at least to her own devices. Medella quickly flourished her name at the bottom of her essay and packed away her mess of books and parchments, she had just enough time to herself to seek out a certain someone.

xxx

Neville was walking down by the lake, collecting the herbs that still grew there, despite the snow falling around him and the ice beginning to form at the shore of the Black Lake. He was content, although a little cold, and it was visible as the boy stooped low to pluck a stray branch from the ground and toss it to the lake. Looking at the boy, in his golden and maroon striped scarf and his grey knit hat, humming a wizarding Christmas tune, you wouldn't be able to tell just how much he was dreading the holidays. But there Neville was, watching branches skip across the dead lake, just like he wished he could skip over the holiday season.

Neville had never really liked the holidays, he didn't like the emptiness of them, he didn't like being reminded of what he didn't have. It was sad really, because his gran always tried her hardest to make up for the loss of his parents. She would get him three presents and she would make all the old family recipes, but it only seemed to amplify the loss more. He always imagined having his mother in an oversized tacky jumper singing while baking christmas cookies. He imagined his father bringing home the best tree, and challenging him to a game of wizarding chess on christmas eve. But all he got was his gran, who would hum out of tune, bake with too much salt, and give him sad glances when she thought he couldn't see her. Neville skipped another branch and agreed that this christmas would be the worst of all. Now he had two wishes that would go unfulfilled this year; he wanted his family back, and he wanted her.

xxx

Medella found him, it had taken some searching, but she had finally found him down by the Black Lake. He was walking, seemingly aimlessly, bundled up in a wool hat and his Gryffindor scarf. She wanted to take a moment just to watch him, but her feet and something close to need drove her forward. She didn't call out to him, although she probably should have, as he started when he saw her, dropping the stick in his hand. His cheeks flushed red, and Medella noticed how his full lips parted.

"Wh- I d-didn't see you - what are you doing here?," Neville said, his voice sounding thick in the light winter air. He noticed her dark eyes light under his nervous gaze. He noticed her hands covered in mittens and her curly hair mingled with snowflakes. Neville felt something like a spark ignite in his stomach at the sight of her, so cute and so dangerous before him.

"I'm here for you," She spoke, her voice loud against the silence surrounding them. "Obviously."

She noticed that the Gryffindor boy didn't dare step closer, so she did. She didn't really mean to get so close, but she found herself right in his airspace, her hands having no place to go but on his chest. If there weren't so many thick layers between them she bet she would hear his heartbeat thumping madly. She looked up at him through her dense eyelashes. It had been three days since she had been this close to him, but she was here now, and she could certainly make up for lost time.

Neville noticed the snow that had caught on her eyelash, but he noticed her heavy gaze more. He noticed the Slytherin green of her mittens, but he noticed the way she held herself against him more. He noticed her leaning in, but he couldn't quite believe that ths beautiful witch in front of him could be leaning closer to _him_. But lean in she did. From then on Neville's mind was blank and the only things he could feel were warmth and wanting. His hands found their way to her hips and he could feel her curves despite how many layers shielded her from the cold.

Medella couldn't remember how she wound up like this, so close to the brown eyed Gryffindor boy. She could feel his fingers twitch as if to hold her closer. His hands made her feel torn, despite Medella Malfoy never having been made to feel anything. She felt unbelievably sick with herself for wanting this, for wanting nothing more than to continue, if only for the warmth and distraction he provided, but she wasn't stupid if it had been easy for her to find him, it would be even easier for someone to find them. She paused with her soft lips just moments from his.

Neville groaned with frustration as she pulled away from him. If he had been in his right mind he would've tried to muffle the sound, but when it came to her he was never in his right mind.

"Come on then Longbottom" Medella put her hands on her hips looking slightly bossy, not that Neville minded, before turning and walking back to the castle.

"I was wondering if you had any other spells to work on. Or has Umbridge's ban on clubs put a damper on the Gryffindor learning curve." The dark haired girl called over her shoulder as she strutted up the hill.

"What are you talking about," Neville stopped and stared at the back of the girl in front of him, playing dumb and wondering just how on earth she could know about the secret meetings. They had been _secret _after all. Hadn't he been careful enough, he was sure he had been careful not to mention anything around her.

"You do know who I am don't you." The Malfoy girl turned to him and arched a thick brow in amusement. "I have ways of getting information, and I am certainly not stupid."

"I never thought you were," Neville muttered, choosing to ignore the way she looked at him then.

"Look it's not important how I know about Potter's little army. What is important is you learning what you need to know."

"Why are you even helping me?" Neville asked, a little wary of the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Because ," She smirked, her words dripping with sexual intentions. "I like playing teacher."

xxx

Medella dragged herself from bed and into the shower. After that she dragged herself down to breakfast, then down to the dungeons for a double block of potions. It was the last day before Christmas Holidays were set to start, and it also happened to be the slowest. She would have Potions, followed by transfiguration, and finished up with a whole hour of listening to the insufferable toad that was Umbridge. She was probably wishing for the end of the day to come just as much as Neville wasn't.

The day went by just as any other day would. He woke up, got dressed, had some breakfast, and he wandered down to the dungeons for potions Neville was thinking about other things while he walked. Things like his charms essay, the health of his monkswood blossoms in the cold weather, and Medella's curls wrapped around his fingers. What Neville wasn't thinking of was the blonde haired Slytherin Prince who was walking just behind him. He just simply wasn't thinking. Although in hindsight the unlucky Gryffindor really should've been thinking, or at least paying attention, because just as he was thinking of the beautiful brunette Malfoy, her twin brother pushed him hard into the nearest wall.

"Watch where you're going Longbottom." Draco Malfoy sneered as Blaise Zabini chuckled behind him. Neville had fallen into the wall, dropping his books on impact. Just as Neville stooped to pick up his books, the emerald eyed Malfoy kicked his books sending them flying.

"Look," Neville said, trying to pluck up whatever courage he had. "I'm not afraid of you Malfoy." He stared the blond boy right in the eye, despite feeling the burning desire to look away; to look at his sister behind him who looked as though she could set the world on fire. Neville still hadn't even begun to figure her out, but he could tell Medella was growing steadily impatient, growing ever so angry. Although he could be wrong after all, she hid her emotions so well.

"Is that right?" Malfoy said, shoving Neville back against the wall. "Well, you should be."

"Give it up Draco." Medella stepped in, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. Giving him a look that would make any other wither, her twin merely sneered back. "Is he really worth it?"

Neville shouldn't have felt so empty at those words, not when she was standing for him in front of her brother, who had only just lowered his wand some. Neville couldn't help the feeling of unease when he heard the simple question fall out of her mouth, _Is he really worth it. _Neville often felt worth nothing, but when it came to Medella he felt a little more valuable, a little more wanted. The pathetic boy didn't need to hear her voicing thoughts he often had himself.

"I guess not." Draco Malfoy smirked down at the boy, giving one last glare before making his way to the potions room.

"You're lucky Longbottom." Blaise Zabini threw over his shoulder, disappearing down the dungeon steps.

Only Medella stayed, and the young witch had no idea why. She had no understanding of the tug at her gut that made her drop to her knees and start collecting the scattered books that lay all around the odd pair. Once the books were collected and her hair was pushed back from her face and she was finally able to see the boy, with his back to the wall and his mouth parted in quiet surprise. _Was she aware of what she was doing?_ Medella made a split second decision, or at least a small part of her did. She hastily kissed his cheek in the dark of the hallway. It was the tiniest of moments and it was soon over, but the implications and thoughts would linger with both the young teens. The bell chimed for the last class of the day to begin and Medella rose quickly, smoothing out her skirt and looking anywhere but Neville. _How could she be so stupid, she didn't do things like this, let alone for a pathetic Gyffindor's like him. But he wasn't pathetic, not really,_ she thought to herself somewhere deep in her mind. _Not when it counted. _

Potions came and went with little fanfare, but both Neville Longbottom and Medella Malfoy were shell shocked. Lost in their own thoughts and shut away from the rest of the classroom. Medella found herself unable to look at the the Gryffindor boy, not that she would if she could bring herself to. Neville on the other hand could not look away. His cheeks tinged red and his lips drawn together, unknowingly smug. When he looked at her time spun to a stop and his mind went racing. Although in the haze of uncertainty and wishful thinking, one question stood out the most; _why would she do that?_

Class ended and with it the term came to a close. Medella had one last meal and joined her brother on the train home. She wondered if her father had bought her the fancy chocolates she liked for her homecoming, and then her thoughts unwillingly went to that boy. The chocolate eyed Gryffindor pain in her side. _Why has she bloody gone and kissed him like that?_ She thought to herself as she settled into her seat in the usual compartment, and in turn settled into a mood. _Oh well, _she thoughthaughtily_, something to tide him over winter break._

AN: I have been working away at this for far too long! I think smaller instalments to this story will help me to become a more frequent updater! I'm so sorry about the long wait, but I'm hopefully (seriously, fingers crossed) back on track.


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